We had our IVF class today, where they showed us all of the various sharp sticks I'll be poking myself with in February. The Follistim and Antagon needles are mildly scary, but not too bad. But the progesterone needle, hooo-boy! That baby's like 10 inches long! They told The Boy that he should administer it by aiming it like he's throwing a dart (except he's not supposed to throw the needle, dart-like, at my butt. The nurse was very careful to specify that he should maintain his grip on the needle at all times).
So I have my mock-transfer next week, my baseline ultrasound on the 28th, and if all goes well, our cycle will actually start on February 2. I'm pushing things a little bit, because by the 28th I won't have been on the pill for an entire two weeks, but the alternative is to wait until Feb. 16 even to start drugs. I figure it's worth it to push, because the worst that can happen is that my ovaries aren't properly cowed as of the 28th and we push the start back, anyway.
I wouldn't say that I'm happy we're doing IVF, or that I relish what's coming in the next month. But it is a relief to be doing something (you know, other than forced, and ultimately futile, sex). And while we're waiting to see if this works, I'll be doing research and filling a file of next step options. I already have three or four things that we were recommended not to do back when we thought my tubes were my only problem. It's not that these things couldn't work, it's just that IVF was considered the most direct and (allegedly) best chance of success. That means, as far as I'm concerned, that we have legitimate options of IVF doesn't work and we can't pay for any more cycles, anyway.